A Dodge Love story
by K K Morgan
Summary: What if Gunsmoke was real? Matt and Kitty's granddaughter Annie Gail is going to write the story of their lives. Come along for the journey. In no way compliant to a RtD: Love's second chances. This is a revised version.
1. Chapter 1

**Standard Disclaimers Apply**

 **A/N: Merry Christmas Ellen(themarshalswoman09)**

 **Chapter 1**

Little Annie Gail stood there with tears misting her eyes, as she sucked in a deep shuddering breath. The smell of the wild flowers that grew all around them was strong in the air. There were faint traces of sweat and leather from horses and men alike, even a few less prominent smells of body odor of a few of the men that didn't seem to know what a bath tub was, but they were all here out of respect, she drew on the air with its pleasant aromas and some of the less then pleasant aromas, knowing one thing to be a fact, she was home. It wasn't the most joyful reunion that she ever remembered her homecoming to be, this was a homecoming filled with sorrow and loss. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be, yet everything was as it should be. Every wonderful and horrid thing they had been through together after all these years, it seemed almost fittin' and just that it should end this way too.

Her heart broke as she stared at the two open graves, with the two simple constructed pine wood coffins on top a waiting to be lowered into their earthy bed. The coffins so simple in looking, but such a huge contrast to each other; almost like the two who lay within the wooden confines; one larger and sturdier, the other smaller and hearty to look at, neither one really telling the life of the person within but almost in their construction, describing them to a T. How she was going to miss them.

She listened to the reverend preach over their graves not really hearing him, as something her history teacher had once said started to ring loud and clear in her ears, with each pulsing hammering beat of her heart. " _Some legends are forgotten, while others are written in the stars to tell the world of their doings."_ That saying or quote she wasn't sure anymore started to ring louder than the sniffling muffled weeping and the few grunts she heard coming from behind her. Why she didn't necessarily believe that some legends were written in the stars, she did know one thing to be an almost fact because he had told her so. Some legends never slept while others did depending on how big the legend was. She would almost bet good hard money on the fact that they would be one legend that would never really ever be put to sleep in the end, especially not in Dodge City, Kansas anyways. After all they had at one time been the best and worse kept secret in all of Dodge, maybe even in the state of Kansas for that matter. Yes, they would never be forgotten or put to rest but the whole town for generations would talk about them until none of the people remembered them anymore but they would be legendary that she was sure of because they already were legendary before their deaths.

She couldn't help the small little smirking smile forming on her lips at the thought of them being legends. They never would have admitted the fact that they were, not to a soul, because they didn't really count themselves as legends. They were just two people merely trying to survive and change with the times. Times that changed so rapidly here as of late, maybe it was a good thing they passed away when they did.

She sobered up when the loud echoing thud of dirt against wood echoed throughout the graveside. She watched as three of the second strongest women she knew take on the task of being the first to shovel a scoop of dirt onto the graves. The reality of it came flooding back like a tidal wave crashing against rocks on the coast lien. Thus making the reality harsher and even more unbearable to stand, but stand she would, she couldn't falter or let them down. Her rock and steeple were no longer living in body but their spirit coursed through her veins along with their blood.

How could she have lost them both so swiftly? Granted it wasn't that swift and it had been a long time coming she reckoned. But they were the two people she thought would never die and that they would always live forever. Maybe they would live forever within the city of Dodge and all of Ford County maybe even in the state of Kansas who knew. But one thing was for sure they would never die in her heart they would always be with her.

"Annie, sweetheart," her mother Lydia said softly through her sniffles, placing a hand on Annie's shoulder comfortingly.

Annie looked at the graves that were ready to be covered in their dusty earth beds of Dodge City, Kansas dust and she wasn't ready to let go quite yet. "Wait," she said a little louder than she intended, gathering every mourner's attention with her sudden outburst, but she didn't care. There was one thing she had to do before she could let them go forever from her life.

Without a second thought she walked over to her father who was standing there silently trying to be the pillar of strength for his family. She hastily unpinned the nickel plated piece of tin from his shirt pocket, before walking over to the man she considered an Uncle even though he wasn't related by blood and doing the same thing as she had done to her father.

She was aware of everybody's eyes on her as she walked towards the head of the graves where the preacher stood calmly and silently. Gently she put a small timid hand on his arm holding the bible firmly in his trembling hands, before giving him a weak smile. She knew it couldn't be very easy for him to preside over their services after all the memories, but he had done so by request of the deceased.

She drew in another shuddering breath as she turned to face the familiar faces that she had grown up knowing. A few faces weren't present in body but in spirit she knew because she felt each and every one of them standing beside her giving her the courage to speak.

"Matthew Dillon was a man of few words, but when he spoke everybody listened and asked for his guidance. I even asked for it on more than one occasion," Annie said in a loud clear voice as she looked out over the crowd a smile forming on her lips as two silent tears slid down her cheeks. "He was a man of honor, and he was loyal but most importantly he was honest. He fought for what he believed was right to the very end, always believing in law and that justice would prevail." She stated firmly never breaking the eye contact that she maintained with the citizens of Dodge. "He spent the best part of his life standing up for what this piece of tin stood for," Annie said holding up the United States Marshal's badge. She broke eye contact with the crowd long enough to look at the badge its self and gently rub her thumb over it. "For almost twenty-five years he stood for law and order in this town…in this county. He always did his duty above and beyond everything else including his own life. It only seems fitting that he should have the second most important thing in his life buried with him," Annie said kissing the badge and throwing it in the grave on the pile of dirt her mother had thrown on his casket. "Good bye Papaw, Dodge will never be the same without you nor would it be what it is today without you," Annie said hearing a few amens in agreement with her statement before they all fell silent once more.

Annie looked over at the second grave before looking up into the crowd. "Kathleen Russell Dillon, better known as Miss Kitty owner of the Long Branch Saloon, was very unique woman. I know a few of you here have at one point in your life and her life here in Dodge looked down on her because of her profession, but came to respect her for the woman that she was. She was a good business woman with more bronze in strength and whit then some men I know. Nobody could ever walk into the Long Branch and say they had been cheated or rolled. Nor could they ever walk in there hungry and not leave with something in their bellies or at least a little money to get them something to eat at Delmonico's. She had a kind heart and very loving personality as big as Texas behind that entire bronze bravo she showed off. She was never scared to stand up for what she thought was right and fight for it either." Annie said firmly smiling once again as she thought about Kitty Russell Dillon. "She would swear that this badge always had it in for her, but she always respected it and believed in what it stood for because of the man who wore it." She added softly. "Kitty Russell Dillon may not have been in the true meaning of the word been a deputy but I believe she was. She stood behind and beside her marshal with her firm silent sometimes vocal support. She rode through the ups and downs the rough patches and the good times just like a deputy would. I believe she deserves this piece of tin she hated at times yet loved just as fiercely because she was and always will be Matt Dillon's right hand man…woman," she corrected before kissing the United States Deputy Marshal's badge. "See ya later Maw-ma, take care of Papaw like always," Annie said tearfully as the tears she had been holding back started to fall rapidly down her cheeks. Suddenly there was a gust of wind so strong that it tugged at her hair and skirts almost forcing her to look up as she looked at the crowd. She could almost feel the faint whisper of a kiss against her cheek and a strong hand on her shoulder squeezing it reassuringly. She knew almost without a doubt that they were both saying goodbye, but legends never slept. Hadn't her Papaw once told her that, which meant it had to be true because Papaw never lied? His word was gold almost like the word of the Bible it was so righteous.

The preacher softly took Annie's shoulders and helped her walked towards the waiting model T Annie stopped just as she was about to climb in, seeing Buck number two standing there in wait saddled and ready to ride waiting for his master to fetch him home.

"Annie, come on sweet heart," her mother pleaded.

"I'll be along," Annie said looking over towards Buck number two before turning and walking towards the horse. "Hey ole son," she said in a cooing voice as she stroked the velvet nose of one of the most trusted friends she had ever known. She gently ran her hands over the worn stock saddle, remembering the man who used to sit so tall in the saddle. How was she going to go on without her Papaw standing there beside her? He was her hero, her knight in shining armor, her protector, her confidant and her friend.

Without a conscious thought she swung up in the saddle, turning Buck number two towards the trail that would lead them home. She sat in perfect mimicry of her grandfather tall and proud as she rode out of the cemetery.

She didn't know where she was going and she didn't care as the tears of goodbye stung her eyes as she rode. It wasn't long before she rode up to her grandparent's ranch house. Dismounting she stood beside Buck number two. She could almost see her grandfather sitting there in the saddle so tall, so proud, his red shirt worn and dusty from the trail. Her grandmother standing there in one of her working dresses to greet him after the long trail.

She didn't think or feel as she numbly led Buck number two towards the barn. She carefully unsaddled him, just like her Papaw had taught her. It certainly was a different time and a different kind of life. Yet they had all survived somehow with the changing times, where ranchers were hitting it big in the oil fields and modern inventions were more developed and readily available. It was truly amazing, she could still remember the only means of transportation had once been a buckboard to and from town, and they had to take the stage from Madera to Aunt Beth's house in Arizona in Utopia. Granted the train had gone from Dodge to Denver and from Denver to Madera but horseback was still the main way to travel, of course her grandma wouldn't agree with that, even though she had traveled by stagecoach more often than not. Yes, these were changing times and it seemed to be a pity that they wouldn't be around to see it.

She didn't think, she didn't feel as she walked numbly into the house and looked around. The ancient old blue patterned coffee mug sat on the table waiting for the morning coffee to be poured into it. Two coffee cups sat upside down on the serving tray, waiting to be used. Maw-ma said a long time ago that it had been a present from Papaw on her birthday, and she always handled it with care. She walked into the living room studying the furniture that had once been housed in the Long Branch before they bought the ranch or so she had been told. Her hand glided over the back of the big strong chair that fit her Papaw just right. She could still see him sitting there reading the paper with his feet propped up on the coffee table and Maw-ma scolding him saying it wasn't his desk at the jail. Annie chuckled remembering the few times she ever heard her Maw-ma scold her Papaw and watching him duck his chin bashfully before giving her a wink and look up at Maw-ma always saying, _"Aw Kitty, it's not like I got Festus's spurs on,"_ Annie let out a deep rich chuckle remembering how Maw-ma would always reply. _"It's a good thing or I might tattoo them on your hide."_ Maw-ma always stood firm until Papaw finally let his feet hit the floor only to put them back on the table right after Maw-ma wasn't looking. But maw-ma saw everything and always just shook her head as Papaw would shake his paper and start reading it again.

She was going to miss hearing them tease each other. But she was going to mostly miss hearing their voices and talking to them. The two years away at school was pure torture for her but she went because Papaw asked her too. He felt it was important, even if he didn't like her being so far away from him. She was his little Annie Gail. Yet some part of her used to think it was because she was growing up. Now she was married to a good man her Papaw even agreed with her. Yet with their living arrangements being what they were it made it hard to come home for visit as often as she would have liked. She just wished she had come home sooner.

She grabbed the two pictures off the mantel and walked up stairs. She walked into their bedroom finding just like she remembered. His dirty shirt hanging over the foot of the bed ready to be put back on for another day of hard work on the ranch, Maw-ma's work dress hanging on the wardrobe's door waiting for her to make her weekly appearance in the Long branch even though she was retired and a silent partner she always made a weekly trip into town to work the floor of the Long Branch. She grabbed the shirt up and slipped her small arms into the overly large sleeves wrapping it around her. She walked over towards the wardrobe and grabbed her grandmother's dress, noticing for the first time it was one of hers and Papaw's favorites, the rich ebony green gown with the black sequences that decorated the collar and open bodice of the dress. She stretched it out on the bed before she walked over to her Papaw's side of the bed and crawled in the middle like she was a little girl again. She buried her nose in the cotton and silk breathing in scents that were her grandparents. She breathed in the scent that was purely her Papaw. The smell of leather, sweat and horses and baked on sunshine and prairie, mixed with the smells of lavender and vanilla waffled with the smells of cigar smoke and whiskey that was purely her grandmother and clung to the clothes.

She laid there in the middle of the big brass bed with the rose printed coverlet and cried as she never cried before in her life. She stared at the pictures she had snatched off the mantel as she cried seeing the picture of her grandparents together when they were younger smiling happily in love with each other and the other a picture of the three of them when she was about seven or eight, she couldn't really remember. She remembered it was just about the time that she got kidnapped by the Apache brave named Wolf and Papaw had come to save her.

She couldn't let go of them ever none of them. They were her life, her history, and her life wouldn't be the same without them. She was going to miss them all dearly the rest of her life.

Ole Doc Adams, the man who brought her into this world and her second name sake. The man who helped her Papaw, come up with the name Gail. Pappy is what she called him. Though she had lost him just a little before she turned sixteen he had helped shape her life with his wise country wisdom and knowledge of medicine and treating people even if he did seem to fuss quite a bit.

Uncle Festus Haggen, she would always hear the jangling of his spurs up and down the board walk and him singing some silly tune every now and then. He may have had a weird way of talking every now and then but he always made some weird kind of sense and he always covered Papaw's back side more than once. She had been just a little over eighteen when he passed away.

Uncle Chester Goode granted she didn't know him all that well but she remembered the stories her grandmother had told her about him and some of the details Papaw had added here and there. None of them had been there when he passed away but she remembered Maw-ma and Papaw mourning a dear friend as soon as they heard.

Uncle Quint and Uncle Newly had both been there today for the funeral, along with Uncle Frank Reardon who looked like he was barely hanging onto the buggy himself.

She wondered briefly before her eyes slowly drifted off into sleep how her grandparent's legend would go on living with so few people around who remembered it or even them for that matter. Maybe she had been wrong maybe her grandparent's legend would sleep after all, all but forgotten and nothing more than a memory.

****M&K****

" _Annie Gail, where is my little Annie Gail hiding," Matt Dillon called out teasingly as he searched throughout the bedroom,_

 _She covered her mouth to cover the snicker, as she hid among the silks and cotton dresses in her grandmother's wardrobe watching her grandfather make a fool of his self, checking under the bed, in the rumpled covers of the bed._

" _Matt what on earth are you doing," Kitty demanded coming into the bedroom to see her husband down on all fours looking under the bed._

" _I'm trying to find my Annie Gail," Matt said standing up to give Kitty a kiss on the cheek._

" _Well if you haven't learned her hiding spot by now I'm not going to tell you," Kitty said walking over towards her vanity and sitting down._

" _Oh come on just a little hint," Matt teased looking at her._

 _She tried hard not to laugh at her Maw-ma teasing her Papaw about how forgetful he was getting to be in his old age. Of course Papaw always pointed out something maw-ma had forgotten earlier that morning as well. She listened to them pick at each other until she thought Papaw was going to forget all about their game of hide and seek._

 _She shifted a little on the small wooden floor of the wardrobe trying to be careful of Maw-ma's dresses when there was a loud snapping crack, and she couldn't help but let out a loud "oaf," as the floor of the wardrobe gave way._

 _Matt quickly opened the doors to the wardrobe to find her sitting on her butt among the broken wood and false floor of the wardrobe. "You all right Annie Gail," he asked bending down to pick her up out of the small rubble._

" _Yes Papaw," she said quietly ducking her head down to stare at her bare feet as she wiggled her toes. "Sorry Maw-ma I tried to be careful not to break anything," Annie said looking sorrowfully up at her grandmother._

" _Oh honey you didn't break anything," Kitty said smiling at her. "Well, you did, but you only broke into my treasure chest," Kitty said laughingly._

" _Treasure chest," Annie said looking up at her grandmother expectantly._

" _Yeah," Kitty said walking over towards her granddaughter and patting her shoulder. "I think you're just getting too big to hide in the wardrobe anymore," Kitty said simply as she started to clean out the closet. She carefully hung the dresses over the back of one of the chairs before kneeling down to show her granddaughter just what she had broken through. "See my treasure chest," Kitty said pointing to the two flat boards that had toppled over to lie on their sides showing off the false bed of the wardrobe._

 _She walked over closer to see what her grandmother was calling her treasure. Seeing a few leather back bound books, and a jewelry box with etched carvings on it, and one oddly shape box._

" _Maw-ma I don't see no treasure," she said looking at her grandmother as if she lost her mind._

" _Oh Annie Gail," Kitty sighed out picking her up and walking over to the bed to sit down with her on her lap. "You see I hide my diaries in here that are filled with all those bedtime stories I tell you all when you spend the night. And all the jewelry I never want to get stolen because Papaw gave them to me a long time ago." Kitty said softly poking a finger on her nose, as they watched Papaw fix the boards once again. "You see treasure doesn't have to be gold or silver or even money," Kitty said hugging her tight._

" _Treasure is something you cherish and love." Kitty said simply._

" _Like me," Annie said smiling up at her._

" _Most defiantly like you," Matt said picking her up off of Kitty's lap. "You are the best treasure there is but I don't think Maw-ma could hide you very well in there," Matt teased._

" _Well if I hid her in there we wouldn't have an Annie Gail," Kitty said._

Annie bolted upright in the bed as if her prayers had been answered by her dream of a memory. She quickly scrambled over towards the wardrobe and but her grandmother's dresses over the back of the chair. She finally emptied out her grandmother massive wardrobe and knelt down on the floor easing up the false floor of the wardrobe. There they sat just like she knew they would.

"You were right Papaw, legends never sleep," Annie said smiling as she held her grandmother's diaries in her hands.

****M&K****

Annie Gail sat out on the old rickety porch swing, gently swaying in the evening twilight. She stared out onto the prairie that had once been as vast and open, now she was lucky that she didn't have her neighbors right on top of her. She could still see into their backyard and sometimes she would watch the children playing but tonight she let her mind drift down the old haunted trail of her memory.

She stared blankly out into the front yard, and as if by magic the houses and street lights disappeared and she was once again standing on her grandparent's front porch staring out onto the vast prairie. As far as the eye could see there would be nothing around, only the field dappled with wild flowers and rickety old buildings that had once been the founding of Dodge City.

Oh how the years had flown by for Annie Gail Dalton Johnson. She had seen her share of history and change in the past sixty-seven years. She had survived the loss of her husband David in World War I to the influenza pandemic. Being a widow single mother of two had been rough she supposed that was what caused her son Grant to enlist in the Army for World War II. Being the oldest he had to grow into a man long before his time, she reckoned. But she had survived the day she received the letter saying her son would not be returning home. That only left her and her daughter Hannah left to survive. They had made it through the depression with the same stride that they took on most things with pure grit and determination. A characteristic she attributed to her grandparents.

It didn't seem all that just anymore now that she truly thought about it. It didn't seem possible any more for a little disease called the flu to rob them both from her at the same time, not after everything they had lived through prior.

She still couldn't believe that her grandfather United States Marshal Matthew James Dillon had died from some little disease, especially after all the gunshot wounds he had lived through. And a few of them should have and almost did kill him, but he survived. Then there was her grandmother, Kathleen Anneliese Russell. It almost most seemed tragic to know that her grandma survived being a hostage, shot twice, stage coach wrecks and putting up with rowdy cowhands and miners and even some buffalo hunters every night of the week for years, only to die from the flu. It didn't seem just at all. The only thing that seemed just about it was they went together.

Yet as she sat there on the porch swing in the late evening silence, when she could hear the ruckus of some children shouting up the street. She stood up as their voices were carried on the fall breeze, noticing for the first just who the children were. A deep rich smile curled to her lips, as first one then another burst through the front gate and raced up to the porch.

"Grandma," Matthew said looking at his grandmother with a smile as big as the sun on his face.

"What is this," Annie said hugging first her grandson then her granddaughter before looking up in to meet her daughter's eyes.

"Mom, you need to see this," Hannah said motioning her mother inside the house, behind the children that were already racing towards the television set.

Matthew was the first to turn it on.

"Good evening. My name's Wayne. Some of you may have seen me before; I hope so. I've been kicking around Hollywood a long time. I've made a lot of pictures out here, all kinds, and some of them have been westerns. And that's what I'm here to tell you about tonight: a western- a new tv show called Gunsmoke. No I'm not in it. I wish I were though, because I think it's the best thing of its kind that's come along, and I hope you'll agree with me; it's honest, it's adult, it's realistic. When I first heard about the show Gunsmoke, I knew there was only one many to play it: James Arness. He's a young fellow, and maybe new to some of you, but I've worked with him and I predict he'll be a big star. So you might as well get use to him, like you've had to get used to me! And now I'm proud to present my friend Jim Arness in Gunsmoke."

The television blared showing John Wayne standing there against a hitching rail doing the introduction to a new television show. Annie liked John Wayne because there was something about him that reminded her of her Papaw, but she never could very well place it.

A song starts to play through the television, showing a man walking tall and proud with his back towards the camera to face a man in a showdown. Annie watched the showdown take place but the next words made her heart still.

"Gunsmoke, staring James Arness as Matt Dillon"

"Grandma that's him, that's him," Matthew said jumping up and down happily. "That's our great-great-grandfather isn't it," Matthew burst out excitedly.

"Yes, that's your great-great grandfather's name all right," Annie said watching the opening credits, moving towards the couch, with her grandchildren as they sat there with her watching the very first television show of Gunsmoke.

"Well mom, what did you think," Hannah asked.

"I think it's going to be a good show, and I think James Arness portrayed your grandfather perfectly." Annie said with tears in her eyes.

"I'm glad," Hannah said smiling at her mother. "I wonder though if it's going to be as good as those bedtime stories you've told us all."

"Hannah dear, I've told you before legends never sleep, and your grandparents are legends, but I'm sure they will leave a few things out, but as long as I tell those bed time stories, the truth will always be known," Annie said wiping at her eyes as she slowly got up and walked over to grab the old faded rose patterned quilt and lay it gently across her grandchildren.

"Maybe mother, you should write a book about the truth of what really happened, so they will never be truly forgotten," Hannah said planting the seed in her mother's head. She could almost see the wheels a turning as her mother contemplated the idea. Hannah knew almost without a doubt that her mother would do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

Annie sat there in her living room, thinking about what Hannah had said Saturday night. Not that she had been able to think of much else since then either, but like always Monday rolled around like it typically did. The afternoon news blared on the television, but Annie wasn't really paying attention to what was being said. She was too busy contemplating the idea of writing a book about her grandparents.

"Write a book, humph," Annie huffed out under her breath, in disbelief. How could she write a book? She didn't know the first thing about book writing, even if she did know more about the truth then the producers knew. Hannah's idea was good about telling the truth and nothing but the full truth. Still she couldn't get the idea out of her mind no matter how much she thought that she couldn't do it. No that wasn't the truth, she had to admit to herself if to no one else. The truth was she scared to write it, truly and honestly scared to write the truth.

There was no way she could write the book, even if she could. How could she, she didn't really know all the facts about what happened all that long ago, she'd just be making up most of it. She was still contemplating and arguing with herself mentally, when there was a knock at her door. Giving up the whole notion of writing the book she went to answer the door.

"Yes," she said swinging the door open cautiously, only to see no one there. She started out on the porch and almost tripped over the rather large wooden crate laying on the welcome mat. "Odd," she said looking up again and still seeing no one there. Being a curious girl by nature anyways, she walked out to the wooden gate and looked up and down the street but didn't see a soul, walking away in either direction. With a shake of her head she started back up to the porch.

A sudden gust of wind came up causing a chill to run up her spine. She wasn't a very superstious person by nature so she thought nothing of it as she bent over and picked the heavily large crate up and carried it into the house.

Setting the crate on the kitchen table, she thought it was rather odd that the crate was wood, when most days now it was cardboard boxes used to ship packages. She looked on the top of the box but there was no note or shipping order or anything. "Really weird," Annie said starting to look around the box only to freeze dead still. **Whiskey K.D Jewes San Francisco** the crate said in big bold letters on the side. "Oh my God," Annie said sitting down in the kitchen chair well almost falling into it with shock clearly written on her face. She hadn't seen a box like that since she was a little girl growing up here in Dodge. Her grandma used to get whiskey off them and so did her mother until they went out of business. Another chill ran up her spine, but she wasn't scared, well really scared anyways.

After re-gathering her composure she stood back up and grabbed a screw driver to open the top of the crate. When she looked inside she saw several leather bound books and some tied together loosely with rawhide. She didn't have to be a genius to figure out what the books were, or even opening them. Setting the lid back on top of the crate she walked back into the living room. She sank down in her recliner and stared towards the kitchen, she was starting to get scared now.

"Grandma," Matthew called out walking in the front door with his sister Katie following behind him.

"In the living room," Annie said looking at the clock, odd the last thing she remembered was the twelve o'clock news being on. She stood up to go greet her grandchildren when her book of Gone with the Wind toppled off the table. Thinking nothing of it she bent over and picked it up and sat it back on the stand. "Matthew, sweetheart," Annie said staring at the book.

"Yes Grandma," Matthew said walking into the living room with a cookie in his hand.

"Would you be a dear and run down into the basement, and there's a wooden crate like the one on the table in the back corner. Would you carry it up the stairs for me?" Annie asked.

"Sure Grandma," Matthew said going down to the basement.

****M&K****

It was close to six o'clock when Annie got done separating the newly arrived crate into two piles. She had been surprised to find the loose leaf papers strung together with rawhide were her grandfathers. She didn't even know he kept a diary, but based on what she read it wasn't much mostly a few short words resulting in a day sometimes a week's accounts. The few simple words he did write were about some of the cases he worked and they all mentioned the weather and a few other not really important details. Although, there were a few things about her grandmother, mother, aunts, uncles, and herself and her cousins in there but they were like the man who wrote them short and simple. The leather bond books where her mother's which proved to be very insightful, just like her grandmother's. There were also a few loose papers folded neatly in between the pages of her mother's journals that were from Doc about some of her families injuries, most her grandfather's.

She looked at the type writer that was set up and ready to use. She shook her head this was the craziest idea she had ever done in her life. Yet she couldn't ignore the signs either. She was going to have to write this book. After all who better to tell the story of Marshal Matt Dillon and Kitty Russell the owner of the Long Branch Saloon. If Margret Mitchell could write a story that took place in a twelve-year span of ninety-four years ago, she ought to be able to write a story with the same details. After all who better then someone that actually knew the characters personally…. She could write the book about the truth.


End file.
